Demise
by Demeanon
Summary: A girl invites a friend in, both unknowing that this peaceful day would be destroyed soon by unforseen actions. Dark fic. Borderline T and M. Dark, sexual themes, nothing innapropriate. Not advisable for those younger than fourteen. Under construction.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: A girl invites a friend in, both unknowing that this peaceful day would be destroyed soon by unforseen actions. Dark fic. Not advisable that those unconfortable with sexual situations or cursing read this.

Pairing(s): Read the story and find out.

A/N: Not sure if this should be in T or M, but the warnings are as follows:

WARNINGS: Sexual themes and obscene language.

Read and Respond please.

* * *

She was all alone now- and happy for it. '_Oh dear,_' thought she, '_the wonderful tea set had gotten destroyed… and everything is a mess._' In truth, the place looked as if a desperate struggle had occurred. The girl fell to her knees on the cold wooden floor. Soon the crying began, tears running down a bruised face and onto a battered and thankfully untainted body. 

And the day had begun… so peacefully…

* * *

She hadn't expected to see him on the front step that day. She asked him how he got there, and he replied with a shrug and told her that he had been wandering. She smiled to herself, thinking that one always wanders to where they are most comfortable. She sensed something was off about him; but her kindness made her welcome him inside the safety of the house. 

In the entryway, he asked of her housemates. Answering honestly out of habit and trust, she lightly responded that they were all out- the eldest and the most mature to a meeting with the head of the family and the last to the city, dragged off by his self-proclaimed girlfriend. Because he had wanted to talk with the last about something that had vexed him, he just nodded and replied in a snide way that he would wait for the last one for a while. She said it was okay, and then closed the inner door behind him.

As soon as he was inside, he tensely sat on the couch- staring blankly at a wall. Concerned for her friend, she asked if he was all right. And, through gritted teeth, he responded. He told her he was fine. An obvious lie, but she overlooked it. And there began her descent.

* * *

Onyx eyes followed her as she ran about obtaining tea for the guest and herself. He listened as calmly as possible to her endless rant over the surprise of him turning up. '_Does she ever shut up?_' he asked himself. Severely annoyed and loosing control, the young man tried to block out her voice. Therefore, it's really a pity that he enjoyed the sound of her voice too much. 

By the time the tea was in front of him on a small table, the young man could literally feel the edge that he had been approaching all day- and prayed for all he was worth that he would not fall off the edge. He was afraid he would harm one of his friends beyond repair if he did fall.

Still bantering on, the girl returned from the kitchen once more, carrying a small plate of bread rolls. His eyes took in the fact that her foot caught on the small step in between the kitchen and the currently occupied room, and he watched her as she tripped. The bread flew all over the room as she fell, and he watched as she collided with the floor.

* * *

She felt pain in her chin as it hit the floor- and then soothing numbness from the area. She looked at the plate, dismayed to find that the bread had flown about the room. She lied there, berating herself for her clumsiness. 

A question hit the air- one about her well-being from her guest. Hurriedly she responded with a stammering yes as she wiped her chin. It hurt. Taking her fingers away from her face, there was a bit of liquid on them; a thick red liquid. Little did she realize that the white lie had hit her guest in a way that was exceedingly dangerous- it hit him closer to a point that he did not want to reach.

Deep breathing was heard from her guest- the girl looked up to see him seemingly fighting for control. Soon he opened his eyes- he was calm again. Although neither knew for how much longer his calm demeanor would last.

* * *

The companions both sat quietly for a while before the girl spoke up. 'Ah, excuse me for a moment… I need tissues.' Standing, the girl waited for a few seconds, looking at the young man sitting on her couch. 

He stared into her eyes, onyx clashing with sapphire. 'Well, I don't know what you're waiting for. If you want a "you are excused" from me, then try again later.' The words were harsh, and he amended. 'Sorry, but I just don't see why you have to ask permission for everything- it's sort of a nuisance.'

She bit her lower lip lightly, blanching a bit at his original snappish tone. She left after nodding tersely. '_I've scared her…_' the young man said to himself before realizing a non-too-pleasant notion; he _liked_ the idea that he had scared her.

He needed to leave, but it would be rude and plain cruel if he left when she was not present. So he resigned to await her return.

She soon returned, a damp towel held to her chin. 'I couldn't find any medicine- I'll have to go get some later.' Taking the towel away for a few seconds to examine it, her friend was able to see that the scrape was not too bad. A strange feeling clamped over him as she put the towel back on and sat next to him; he wanted to wound to have been bigger and bloodier, only so that he would have been able to see the ivory of her skin marred by rubies. He lightly shook that idea out of his head as she poured the steaming hot tea with one hand, the other still pressing the towel to her chin.

She picked up the tea cup, and he realized that her hand was shaking- the cup was too large to manage with one hand. He knew an accident was coming, but didn't feel like stopping it- and his eyes widened as he realized that the slightest wrong thing would then send him into oblivion.

He leaned forward to get up as she brought the tea across the space between him and the table. The cup fell out of her hand, and with a gasp she attempted to catch it, letting the towel fall so both hands were of use. But it was too late. She fumbled the cup as he looked down in shock, and the hot tea landed all over his unprotected feet.

Both stayed in their respective positions for a few moments before chaos descended from his throne to cause pandemonium. She shied back as he yelled in pain and anger, his rationality lost to the world.

He kicked the table and sent it tumbling down, it's contents crushed beneath it. 'You stupid girl! You just spilt HOT TEA all over my feet!!' He was screaming at the top of his lungs as he tore off his socks to prevent burns and glared at her. She moved to get up and move to a safer location across the room, but his strong and normally gentle hand clamped down on her shoulder. She cried out in pain as he threw her back against the couch, and squeaked in fear as he sat on her legs, pinning her down with his body, a leg on either side on her. This was bad- his dark side had taken over.

Her hands were frozen against his chest as she tried in vain to force him off of her, but he ignored them as he shoved his hands into her long brown hair and pulled her face at an angle where he could study it well. 'This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't made a goddamn tea party out of this,' he breathed across her face, his eyes roaming hers, 'Because you wouldn't have fallen and scraped yourself which was the reason why you tried to lift a cup that was too fucking heavy and big for one hand.' He bared his teeth, something that his sign was not commonly associated with, being the docile ones.

It still frightened her more than anything that had happened so far in her life. The macabre smile not only held malice, but there was a maniacal glint in his eyes- which never boded well. 'However, if you had asked for help, like **normal** people do in those situations, then I wouldn't have lost my temper. And since your towel is now on the floor and soaked with tea, I doubt it will be of use.' He leaned in a bit closer, his mouth relaxing but his eyes unchanging. 'So, let me help now.' The words would have been kind if not for the fact that they were grounded out with a foreboding omen lacing them.

She gave another push, and started to squirm as he tilted her head up a bit more and moved his face closer to her chin. Her eyes, locked on the place where the wall met the ceiling were no longer able to see anything of him but the tips of his bicolour hair, and she stiffened involuntarily as she felt hot breath fan over her neck. Fear bid her to close her eyes, and she listened. However, her eyes snapped back open as she felt something wet slide across her chin- and it stung.

He was licking her chin. While a millennia ago this would have been absolutely normal if a fellow creature you cared for was hurt, now it was reserved for only the closest of relationships. He was licking her wounds. She gasped, and squirmed even more and pushed harder against his chest.

He really wished she would stop fighting it. She was just getting him angrier, and with a feral growl he bashed her head against the wall and pressed closer to her, forcing her to remove her hands from his chest, yet not so close that their torsos touched. She groaned in pain as he continued to lick her chin, and then a whimper was heard as he began to nip at the scrape; he had finished cleaning it, but was not done with her.

The first time she had seen him in his dark state her two "protectors" had been there to stave him off. Not thinking clearly, she forgot everything about him other than he was a male who was frightening her, and did the standard reaction of a weaker female who desperately wished to get away in that situation. She brought up her knee sharply, and he flinched.

In the brief moment that he flinched, she pushed him off of her and ran towards the kitchen door- the only open door in the room. Unfortunately, a hand wrapped around her ankle before she could get very far and pulled her to the ground. Her hand was under her chin this time, but the jolt knocked her teeth together painfully. Prickles ran all over her legs as the circulation returned to them briefly and bruising hands turned her over onto her back.

Sapphire eyes filled with tears as the young man kneeled over her, pinning her wrists to the ground with his hands and sitting on her thighs. His onyx eyes roamed all over her form as he smirked, a very nasty edge in his eyes. 'Always going to be like that, _darling_?' He taunted her as he leaned down slowly, 'Are you always going to hurt me and run like everyone else?' His hands tightened on her wrists as he came within inches of her face and grated out 'Are you?' He glared at her as she drew in a shaky breath, and then left out a whimper. 'No, you aren't…' Onyx became darker as he studied her eyes, and then closed his own.

She closed her eyes and tensed as he came even closer, and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming as he gently, and tenderly rubbed his nose and check against her face. A shuddering breath filled her lungs as his lips brushed over her skin and his forehead rested against her own.

'You won't leave me. I won't let you.' Her eyes cracked open at his first sentence; it was spoken tenderly, as a whisper. But the last sentence was a loathsome sound, and she opened her mouth on instinct, her throat working and lungs drawing in a large amount of air…

Only to have him bite her neck harshly and swiftly, causing a would-be scream to end before it started. 'It won't do any good to scream anyway. No one is near enough to hear you,' he muttered darkly against her now marred neck.

She began to squirm, and when he growled in warning, she forgot his words and screamed loudly. Her eyes were drawn to his face as it contorted in rage, and one of his hands released a wrist to clamp over her mouth. 'When I said "it won't do any good to scream anyway," I meant shut the hell up. You are really annoying sometimes with your naïve way of life and the whole "Oh, I'll tell you a story and then every little fucking thing in your lives will be fricking peachy!" The world is not all sugar and rainbows _sweetheart_, and there are wolves in the forest waiting to prey on pretty unsuspecting maidens such as yourself…' He roughly ran his hand down her face and neck at that point, and the hand would have continued past her collarbone if not for the fact that she slapped him with her free hand.

His face recoiled to the side, mouth open slack as she trembled. '_Oh dear Mother in Heaven, is this what they mean by the calm before the storm?_' Her answer came as soon as his head snapped back into place. If she thought he was angry before, then this was a whole new level of anger.

She was only able to let out a small scream before his hand encased her face in a grip that would put any iron clasp to shame. She could literally feel her teeth chafing away at her cheeks that were forced between them painfully and could feel the bruising that was sure to come. Tears began to roll down the sides of her face as he deftly grabbed both of her wrists in his large hand and pinned them above her head.

And then, he laughed. Never before has such a dark, evil, ominous laugh been heard, and hopefully will never be heard again. 'Ah, so you can fight back after all. I like that in a girl.' His eyeteeth seemed to gleam like a wolf's in the lighting as he smiled. 'Only, you are smart enough to not fly away once caught, are you little bird?' He chuckled darkly, looking down. He let go of her face and lightly traced the pattern of her shirt absentmindedly.

'Please, don't do this!' She pleaded, her eyes searching his for mercy. 'I know you are better than this! Please don't… please…' She sobbed, and flinched as he stroked the side of her face almost lovingly.

'Promise me this then,' he whispered in her ear as he inhaled the scent of her hair. '_She always smells of strawberries… delicious strawberries…_'

'Promise me that you will never leave me,' his teeth grazed her earlobe lightly as she drew in a heaving breath. 'Promise me that.'

She faltered as she hiccupped, and bit her lip as me trailed his lips up and down her cheekbone. 'I-I c-ca-can't promise th-that…' She cried softly. 'I-I will h-have to leave you so-some da-ay…' She sobbed as he froze in his ministrations to her cheek.

Suddenly he became very angry again, sitting up on her waist painfully. 'Oh, and that has something to do with your so called "innocent" housemates, would it?' He spat at her, eyes showing turmoil. 'Funny, out of the four people who live here, you are the only female.' He leaned in close to her again, smirking. 'That would explain why you wear such short skirts all the time then, wouldn't it?'

She shook her head from side to side, but he laughed insanely anyway. 'You little **whore**!' His free hand was suddenly at the hem of her shirt and she shrieked as it forced its way under and up her bare stomach. 'Why so afraid, slut? Don't you do this every day with all three of them?'

The girl cried out in pain and fear as he continued. 'Don't. You. Do. This. Every. Fucking. Day?!' her shrieks multiplied as he punctuated ever word with a pelvic thrust against her.

'Why deny me tramp? Huh?' He cupped her bra covered breast underneath her shirt as he continued to frighten her. 'I'm just as good as that stupid mangy cur by all measures, if not better!' He leaned over her and panted in her ear. 'Or do you have four-somes? Heh. Why not make it FIVE?!' She sobbed even harder as he started moving at a faster pace, biting and sucking harshly on her throat, moaning in her ear.

'Please! STOP!' She screamed as he screamed wordlessly and ripped his hand out from under her shirt to hold her head still. He looked into her terrified eyes, his now inky black eyes half-crazed before he crashed his lips to hers violently.

In her tears, she opened her mouth in shock. He took advantage of it and plundered her mouth with his tongue, memorizing ever bit of it. As she continued to sob and heave against his hot and demanding mouth, he groaned into her mouth and began to slow his movements.

Once he had completely stopped moving, he started to kiss her more gently and slowly withdrew leaving soft nips on her bruised lips. He rested his forehead on hers, panting slightly before grinning demonically.

'Promise me you will never, **ever,** leave me.' She shut her eyes and murmured those words that would seal her fate forever, her jaw trembling all the while. He patted her on the cheek lightly before kissing her again, this time more tender than the rest.

'Thanks for the quickie _love_,' He crooned in a mocking version of tenderness, releasing her wrists as he rolled off of her.

She just continued to lie there, now quietly crying as he put his socks, now cooled down, back on. 'I guess I'll just leave. Tell the stupid one I came by.' Before leaving the room, he crossed back over to her and gently pulled her up, resting his hands on her shoulders as kissed her cheek softly. 'Tell anyone about this and I will not hesitate to kill you,' he whispered in her ear as she numbly sat on her ankles.

Kissing her hard one last time, he left the room. She continued to sit in the same spot, same position until she heard the front door click shut. Only then did she fall over forwards and cry until she had no tears left.

'_He probably won't ever remember this anyway… it's like he is two entirely different people when he is angry. __**Because he is.**_' She breathed in and out shuddering breaths for a few seconds before sitting up again. '_But I will forgive him… he is not himself when he is like that at all… yes, that's it. I'll just account it to "he was in an __**extremely**__ foul mood._' Wiping her eyes, she surveyed the room.

And then she broke out into tears all over again.

* * *

Her housemates soon returned, and after calling for her worriedly ran to her side when they realized that she was curled up in a ball and sobbing loudly. 

'What happened?' While this was not what was actually said during their tirade that followed as they gently moved her to the couch, it was the main point that was reached.

Whimpering, she only shook her head and spouted more tears. The mature one, being the one who cared for her like a sister, gently stroked her back, attempting to calm her. However, she shrieked when he stroked her head, and moved away from him.

'Nononononono, please don't! PLEASE!' She then began to cry all over again.

The mature one, not knowing exactly what to do, sat there quietly as the girl he had sworn to protect cried her heart out. The eldest then ushered the other one and the mature one out of the room and into the hallway to discuss what was wrong with their friend.

After a long debate, they arrived at one conclusion- someone had sexually assaulted their flower. For you see, they did indeed love her, but only one loved her in the way that a husband and wife love each other. Now the only question was, who?

* * *

The young man walked down the street, his face blank again. '_Strange_,' thought he, '_I seem to have somehow lost an hour… and I'm no longer close to turning Black._' 

He shrugged his shoulders casually. This happened sometimes, and each time had different consequences. But they were never too bad. He continued to walk down the street, and turned to a busy road.

As was routine, he ignored all of the girls who stared at him because of his "bad boy" clothing, and ignored all the disapproving looks from the adults. He heard them whisper as he passed, 'Teenagers these days. Always dying their hair strange, unnatural colours.'

He smiled to himself. If only they knew that his hair naturally had black roots and white tops.

He rubbed his hand against his mouth to cover a cough, and was surprised to find that his lips were bruised, as if he had been kissing someone. '_Ah well. Probably just crashed into something again._'

Soon, he disappeared into the crowd, not knowing or realizing that he had hurt one of his very close friends.

But it was the end of the day. And people were retiring, so he too retired to his home.

And that night, he dreamed of bruised strawberries.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: A girl invites a friend in, both unknowing that this peaceful day would be destroyed soon by unforseen actions. Dark fic. Not advisable that those unconfortable with sexual situations or cursing read this.

Pairing(s): Read the story and find out.

A/N: Due to popular demand and the fact that this plot line has been plauging me, this is now a story that will be continued. Originally, this was two chapters, but I revised it and I think it works better this way. Please notify me if there are any problems.

Read and Respond please.

* * *

Inside the office, the doctor was writing in a journal- as he did with most things relating to mental stability. A habit derived from his ability to take memories away. He loathed the habit almost as much as he loathed the ability, and he needed the habit to remain sane. He wrote every aspect of a memory that he is bidden to take in a journal- for that dulled the memory and made it easier to replace with his own memories.

He looked relatively startled when the girl's protectors asked him to take away her memories, and after an hour of relentless arguing over if wiping her memories of that day would actually accomplish anything, he caved in. The red-head promised to always protect her during the argument- and he never broke his promises.

* * *

She sat alone in the room with a friend- Oh, oh, so similar to that terrible incident! Her chair was in the middle of the room, another chair facing hers. In came her friend, the doctor, with a black journal with her name printed on the cover in white. Details, details, details… if only she had paid attention to the details her attacker had shown.

All her fault… all her fault…

Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked back and forth slightly as she heard the laugh; the oh-so-evil laughter she had witnessed. She registered someone was talking- was it her?

* * *

'Do you hear it?' The question came from the girl, and he looked at her worriedly. 'Do you hear the laughter?'

He responded by saying that there was no sounds other than the wind against the outside of the room- and that hardly sounded like laughter. She began mumbling something, and when he leaned in closer, he found that she was repeating a mantra.

'All my fault… the tea is cold now… all my fault…'

Dear God. This was the one thing in his mind as he stared at her- and a little voice in the back of his head whispered: Has this hurt her more than thought possible?

* * *

Tea is cold now… no burns… only wet socks. She found this oddly hilarious, and laughed quietly.

She heard her name- it brought her out of her stupor. The doctor told her he was going to begin the procedure soon. How long had she been out?

She sat calmly until his hands touched her temples. She closed her eyes and screamed inwardly. Not again, not again, not again…

Her name again… he told her to open her eyes. His voice was soothing, and she felt compelled to do as he said. As soon as she opened her eyes, she was met with green-gray eyes. She tried to look away, but the eyes were too compelling.

She was told to relax- she did so. Then, suddenly, she was falling, falling, falling through those ever deepening eyes… Then all faded to black.

* * *

He was inside her mind now, the bridge between the mental plane and the physical plane proving useful once more. The state of the mental plane for this particular individual was not at all expected however. Whereas most normally had gently swirling clouds as the sky and walls, this one had clouds that were hectically tossing about. It made him think he should be dizzy, but his mental body was unable to feel such physical reactions.

Beyond this, the way of memory storage was similar to a fault; as it always is. He stood in the centre, and waited. Soon enough, he was instantly surrounded by walls covered with pictures that were connected to each other. One side had bars over it- he couldn't touch that side even if he tried. It is impossible to take from the memories behind the bars. Looking to the unbarred side, he pictured how his friend had been before that day and her state afterwards.

Almost in that same instant, the pictures shifted until both sides showed what had happened yesterday- he hoped. However, when he got a closer look, he began to hope against hope that this was not what had happened.

In a shock, he watched the day play out almost until it was over before snapping out of his daze and quickly "rewinding" the memory. Once it got to when her eyes had first opened that morning, he stuck his hands into the picture. They went through it like a stone in water, and with a twisting motion he began to pull it out of the system. Soon he had the memory in his own mind, and felt the hopes and fears that the girl had lived through yesterday crash down on him.

The sheer weight of the fears caused him to loose concentration, and the bridge snapped. With a jolt, he found himself sitting in the chair once more, the girl sitting opposite him. She was asleep. That was normal in one so young who went through the mind wiping ordeal.

Suddenly, the stolen memory played before his eyes; God, he had to write this one down and get it out of his mind before he himself gained deep emotional scars from it.

Looking at the girl as he got out a pen and the journal, he remarked on how frail and weak she seemed. Clearly there was some unseen strength in her if she had lived through this without wishing death upon herself. He found himself remembering her mantra, only now he understood. Only it was never her fault. Nor was it entirely her attacker's fault.

He knew there was someone to blame, but he couldn't think of who it would possibly be.

* * *

_She stood in a field of strawberries, laughing merrily with a large, bulky four legged creature that was mainly fog in her eyes. Everything was perfect- the sun warmed her smiling face as her companion danced a circle around her._

_Then, her companion stood on its hind legs as the sky darkened- a storm was coming. She bade her companion to flee with her, but it merely stood there, quiet as ever. Then, it reshaped itself into a more humanoid form, and laughed menacingly. Suddenly, a blow was dealt to her head, and she fell to the ground._

_The strawberries were gone. There was only mud left, and she was sinking. She screamed, and her companion somehow latched itself onto her lips in what felt like a kiss. When it ended, she had sunken up to her chin. The figure laughed again, and mocked her._

'_Thanks for the quickie, _love_.' The figure laughed once more, and it plagued her as she sank screaming into the mud until there was no trace left…_

_She was not dead- no, not even close. She landed in a bed in what appeared to be her bedroom. Her two protectors were sitting nearby, conversing. She could hear them- they were talking about her. But she couldn't move at all._

_Her vision faded soon after._

* * *

She slowly opened her eyes, her mouth felt dry. She looked about the room blearily, not realizing her location until she saw the picture of her mother. She was in her bedroom.

Sitting against the opposite wall was a fast asleep red-head, looking deceptively serene. The girl sat up, looking around for water or something to drink. There, on her table! A glass of ice water was sitting there, condensation fogging up the outside of the glass. She reached for it, and grasped it in her hand.

However, as she moved to sit up, the lethargic grip that still held sway over her caused her grip to loosen. The glass fell to the floor, and the boy started awake- and for some unexplainable reason, she was momentarily frightened. However, the moment passed as he trained his eyes on her and smiled.

'You're awake.' She smiled back at him sleepily and nodded.

'Sorry to be so late, you guys must be starving by now.' She smiled as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and started to get up. 'Oh well. Nothing like an hour or two to make the meal taste even better.' She laughed with a light-heart until she saw the look the boy was giving her.

'You don't know yet, do you?' Her face must have shown her confusion, because he bowed his head and continued. 'You've been out of it for two days now.'

* * *

She had been in a coma like trance for two days. After her initial shock passed, she asked in a small voice if there was a lot of school work she had missed. The red head replied that there was neither a large amount nor none at all. It was an average work load. She calmed for a moment before she remembered something else that was important- her job.

He told her to calm down as he stood up finally. He told her that her work place had also been told that she was sick and that the time when she would return was unsure. He bade her goodbye so that she could get dressed when she got out of the bed entirely. Once outside of her door, he leaned against the wall and waited.

* * *

The writer decided to visit the doctor to see how things were going that morning. The doctor was in a foul mood, and glared when the writer made a joke about bedsides. They conversed for a while, but it was unfortunately interrupted when a maid came in for the doctor.

She told him that the head of the family had a sore throat and had demanded that the doctor come see him and check for any illnesses. Having no other choice, the doctor got ready to visit the controller. Before he left, he told the writer to no touch anything and that he would be back shortly.

Agreeing to this with a smile and flip of his hand, the writer sat on the desk, earning an eye roll from his smarter cousin. As soon as the door clicked shut, the writer got up. Time to find the girl's journal, for it possibly would hold the secret of who the attacker was.

* * *

The calm one walked out of his room to find the rowdy one leaning against the girl's bedroom wall. Sighing, he questioned if she was awake yet. He gave a slight almost unnoticeable start when the rowdy one replied that she had awoken.

Smiling, he stated his joy at the news, knowing that the idiot before him would not be able to recognize the joy in his light monotonous voice. Yes, the idiot did not recognize it- it was clear when his face hardened, his eyes clearly challenging him to if he truly cared for the girl.

Before either of them could say another word, the girl stepped out of her room. As she talked to the rowdy one about breakfast- which was already had; cereal is a wondrous thing- the calm one subtly looked her over. The bruises were still noticeable, but had faded to the point where their origins were impossible to tell. Mentally, he resigned to the fact that a large lie was about to be born, as soon as she looked in the mirror.

* * *

There were journals everywhere about the room, some lying open facing up, others facing down, some closed and just lying there. And yet more still flew through the air. The writer was getting frustrated. How on earth could it be so hard to find this one journal? Soon he was out of journals- the shelves were empty.

With a groan he sat down at the desk in the plush chair the doctor often sat in. He held his head in his hands as he propped his elbows on the desk in front of him. How could the doctor destroy such a valuable piece of evidence? His eyes darted over the table, trying to figure this out when he noticed a small black journal sitting on the desk corner. He picked it up.

He almost laughed at himself. How could he have not seen this? The girl's name was printed on it, and with a glance at the door, he opened it and began reading.

* * *

Humming to herself, the girl mixed the eggs and milk as she set about making an omelet-they were easy to make, fast, and filling. All good in her eyes after such a long time of no food for her friends. She smiled as she started to heat the stovetop. She felt so rested. Then she noticed something- there were bruises on her wrists.

She stared at them for a few minutes, trying to remember how she got them. The calm one had been in the kitchen with her, getting out plates and other dining implements, and turned when he heard her happy humming cease and the lack of movement. Saying her name, he crossed the room and put a pan on the oven with a loud clang, being loud to get his friend out of her silent lecture. It worked, unfortunately, for she jumped and some of the egg mixture sloshed out of the bowl.

With a small laugh, she remarked on the fact that she needed to work on being so clumsy. He smiled back at her, but his eyes were watchful and seemed sorrowful. Not noticing this, the girl continued on with her chore of making an omelet. Deciding to help her, the calm one got a sponge and wiped up the spill on the floor.

Soon, the laughable incident seemed to be forgotten. However, in the back of the girl's mind, a question of how the bruises got there lurked like a panther in the forest.


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: A girl invites a friend in, both unknowing that this peaceful day would be destroyed soon by unforseen actions. Dark fic. Not advisable that those unconfortable with sexual situations or cursing read this. 

Pairing(s): Read the story and find out.

A/N: Enjoy the reading and point out any mistakes that are found please.

Read and Respond please.

* * *

The doctor made his way back to his office, knowing that he would find his things rifled through. Crossing over the main square of the miniature city that his family lived in; he was stopped by the sweet one. Much like his other form, the sweet one was jumping around him, smiling merrily.

The sweet one bade him to play with him and his friend. Smiling slightly, the doctor allowed the sweet one to drag him away from his intended target. They made their way to a covered porch, and in front of the sliding door sat the docile one- deceptively docile. The small smile faded as the doctor recalled what the docile one had done, then reprimanded himself; for the docile one had been overshadowed by the violent one.

Despite knowledge of the docile-turned-violent one's actions, the doctor sat down across from him. The sweet one sat to the side of both of them, smiling as he laid out a chess board.

The doctor looked quizzically at the sweet one, and made known that he had believed that they were going to play a three person game- chess was not meant for three people. The docile one smiled quietly as the sweet one stated that the fact was known, but the duo had wanted to see if the docile one could beat the doctor in chess.

Thinking, the doctor noted that the docile one seemed a bit… slow for lack of a better word when it came to logic games such as chess. He declined and made to get up, but was stopped by the sweet one's plea. Sighing, he sat down again. And with a movement of a pawn, the game began.

But the irony was not lost on the doctor- the pieces were the standard black and white. The docile one had the black team.

* * *

In contrast to the relatively calm scene that the doctor was in, the writer was beginning to shake with anger. The boy that he had trusted and joked with was the one that had hurt the girl that he had come to see as a close niece despite his many jokes about loving her. Anyone with eyes could see that she would be with the red-head and at the very least the calm one.

The clarity in the details of the written memory were overbearing to him- had it been anyone else's memories he would have seen it as an excellent part to add into one of his stories- or at least parts of it. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the notebook in his hands as if he was going to rip it apart.

His arms tensed, hands moving away from each other; then the movement stopped. He couldn't do it. He did not know why, but he just couldn't destroy the notebook. With a disappointed shake of his head, he set the notebook back down on the desk. Looking around the room, he decided to help in a constructive way for once. He now had a better understanding of what the doctor had to do- cleaning up the mess he had made was the least he could do.

* * *

_The white queen's pawn move forward one square, then the king-side black rook's pawn moved forward one square as well._

_The white queen-side bishop moves diagonally across the white squares to take out the king-side black rook's pawn. The rook avenges by capturing the bishop._

_The white queen's pawn moves forward again, the king's black knight jumps over the front lines to enter the battlefield. The white queen's knight then jumps forward- the black queen's pawn advances a step._

_The white queen moves forward a step, readying for the battlefield as the black queen's bishop does the same. The white king's knight jumps up, landing closer to the queen, ready to protect to the last. Too late, the white queen sees an opening- the king's rook moves out of her range by sidestepping once._

_The white queen moves to her right in a diagonal trail, the black queen's bishop moving out to in front of the black king's knight. The white queen moves to take out the black queen's pawn, but stops noticing that the black queen still hovers nearby. So instead, the white queen's knight moves to her other side, threatening the black queen's pawn, who quickly moves to find its self trapped against the white queen's pawn._

_Moves are made across the field, pieces falling rapidly as the onslaught continues. The white king silently howls in agony as the white queen is foolish enough to be taken by the black king. The fates seem to favour the black side. However, in their folly, the black side looses its queen to the white knight. The movements continue, the outcome becoming unclear as it draws closer._

_Then, a black pawn reaches the enemy's lines, and sacrifices itself so that its queen can once again walk the earth. The white king sees that through his haste he has left himself with no defences. A futile dance begins as the black queen hunts down the white king. Soon, the white king lays down his sword in defeat. His remaining troops- two pawns and a bishop- who had vowed to protect him proved to be his captors as they helplessly watched their king be cornered like an animal._

* * *

Surprised at his defeat, the doctor excused himself- he needed to return to his office. The sweet one bounced as he happily exclaimed a farewell, the docile one smiling and waving.

The doctor berated himself- how could he have lost such a game? The docile one seemed unable to be that mentally insightful the majority of the time. Pausing momentarily to take off his shoes, the doctor then briefly touched on the idea of the game mirroring the events that have passed recently. With a shake of his head, he dismissed that thought. Things like that rarely happen, if ever, and more often with dreams than anything else.

Upon entering his office, the doctor noticed two things. The first being that his room was surprisingly neat, and the second being that the writer was reading a magazine that the doctor kept in his office for reasons forgotten. The writer looked up- and set the magazine down with a smile.

The doctor questioned if the writer had gone through his stuff, and was answered with a question about the head of the family's health. Frowning, the doctor replied that the family head's sore throat was due to a recent screaming fit the head had. The doctor restated his question- and the writer's smile did not waver as he denounced the thought of those actions.

Smiling tentatively, the doctor bade the writer a good day and soon found himself alone in his office. He sat at his desk again, and proceeded to write down the most recent of the family head's 'injuries.' Focused on this task, it was not until later that he noticed that his notebook containing the girls' memory had mysteriously transported its self to the other side of his desk.

* * *

Winter was coming- the final leaves clinging to the tree as if they were shipwrecked sailors and the tree was a raft. Soon even those leaves joined their comrades on the ground where they were piled together and disposed of.

About a week had passed since the incident, and by the end of the day it would be two weeks. The red-head continued to live up to his vow, but was beginning to become lax. The calm one acted as if nothing had happened, forming a lie of the girl falling down the stairs when the girl questioned him about all the bruises she had. She seemed doubtful for a moment, but accepted the lie in the end.

The happy patchwork family was sitting peacefully that day, reading or doing the much needed make up work as another lectured when a knock sounded at the door. The red-head answered it, and in ran the sweet one with the docile one close behind. The writer did not notice this until the sweet one happily exclaimed the girl's name and jumped on her. The red-head started to yell at the younger male as he sat in his other form within the confines of the girl's arms.

The calm one grabbed the sweet one by his ears and carried him into the other room, bringing the clothes along with him. Soon they re-entered, the sweet one looking as if he had been lectured about bad behaviour. The docile one spoke up then- he was wondering about why the girl had not been at school for two days recently.

When the writer heard this, he felt anger lick at him. He casually stated with a sarcastic undertone that it was surprising that the docile one was wondering that. When asked what he meant by the girl, the writer requested that the docile one and the sweet one leave. The sweet one questioned as to why they had to leave, and the writer raised his voice slightly and repeated his request- now a command.

The red-head and the calm one shared a confused look- whatever the reason for the writer to be acting this way, it would be better if the two visitors just left. The calm one then politely requested that the two leave. The docile one agreed then, and with a nod to all those in the room, set out again. The sweet one soon followed- the docile one needed someone to walk with him if he was ever going to get home.

After the two left, the girl turned to the writer and questioned him about why he reacted that way. Smiling, the writer responded that it must just be that he was hungry- dinner was approaching soon anyway which supported his excuse.

Accepting this, the girl then skipped off to prepare dinner, and the calm one went to go assist her. Once they were both gone, the red-head bluntly questioned the writer as to why he acted the way he did again. When the writer did not respond and instead returned to reading the newspaper, the red-head groaned in frustration and stalked off into the kitchen to help in anyway he could.

As the girl busied herself around the kitchen, the red-head and the calm one conversed. They tried to figure out why the writer had reacted like that to the sweet one and the docile one, but were unable to come to any conclusion. The calm one thought to himself about the possibility of the docile one being the culprit behind the attack on the girl- but he tucked it away. The docile one never got angry enough to do anything remotely as horrible as what had been done to the girl, so that cleared his name from the list of prime suspects.

However, the calm one was unable to shake the idea that the docile one had done the crime- so he instead focused on his task of aiding the girl until he had buried the thought deep in his mind. Besides, he silently stated, the docile one is too nice to do something like that even when he becomes the violent one.

* * *

_He was walking in a hallway- very similar to the school's hallways when he thought about it. Suddenly he heard a scream, a disturbingly familiar scream._

_He ran towards the source of the now echoing scream, and felt his feet slide over the floor as his momentum continued though his movement had stopped. Staring in shock, he saw a sickly pale version of himself- dressed in all black and hair for once a singular colour; black, just like the rest of his features- holding something against the wall. Despite the fact that the way that his doppelganger looked was frightening enough, the _eyes_… The eyes were pure black- not only the irises, but the rest of the eyes as well. It was very disconcerting to look at, and he felt himself freeze in place._

_Then he noticed what his doppelganger was pinning down; the girl. He shouted the command that his… for lack of a better word, other half release her. The daemon-like figure just laughed and pressed closer to the girl who was looking at him with pleading, fear filled eyes. He ran towards her, but felt as if he was moving through jelly._

_Suddenly, the scene changed, and he was surrounded by a spot of light, beyond which darkness reigned. He twisted his body, searching for something. What he was searching for, he did not know. A bright light then blinded him, forcing him to shield his eyes with his arms. When he took his arms back down, the girl was lying in her own spot of light._

_Unlike him, she was laid out on the ground, one arm supporting her as she propped up her upper body to face him. Her hair covered her face- and she asked him, "Why?"_

_He didn't know how to respond, and at his silence, she asked again. "Why did you do this to me?" Her face lifted up, and he saw her bruised face. "No wonder people always leave you." A light smile, similar to a daydreamer's smile appeared on her face. "And it's all because you loose your temper. Goodbye my friend. Goodbye, forever."_

_With that said, he suddenly was drowning in the darkness- the lights had dissipated. He could not breathe… No air… he felt himself fading away into nothingness as the girl's voice repeated in the black darkness._

"_Goodbye, forever."_

* * *

He woke up with a start feeling very let down and hurt for some reason. He knew it had something to do with a dream, but then again he wouldn't be able to figure it out. He never remembered his dreams. 


	4. NOTICE

Author's Notes: All right, I personally despise false updates like this, but this one is necessary; my computer recently crashed, and all my desktop files and most of my desktop document files were lost. A vast majority of my fanfictions were in those files; I hope you all can make the connection, because I really hate having to admit it (but I must): Almost all my fanfiction stories have been destroyed. So now, in addition to all the real life problems I have now (see my Profile for a notice on that) I have lost all my documents. This also annoys me due to original stories that have been lost.

But it's alright. I'll work around this, and it will probably help with my now exceedingly slow task of rewriting everything. Hopefully my stories will improve post-present events.

See y'all!


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